Chapter 78: The Price of a Window
The air in the forward scout post was thin and tasted like iron. It was a frozen burrow dug into the side of a lesser peak, offering a gut-churning view of the massive glacier where the Vault lay hidden. Valen arrived like a storm coming to rest, his snow-runner coughing ice crystals as he killed the engine. Two trackers flanked him, hauling a heavily insulated crate between them.
The scout in charge, a wiry woman named Sera with eyes permanently narrowed against the glare, didn't salute. Out here, formality got you killed. "You're late. The Northern patrol patterns have shifted. They're antsy."
"Everyone's antsy," Valen grunted, his breath pluming. "Where's Talon?"
Sera jerked her head towards the back of the ice cave. Talon, their best forward observer, was a ghost of a man who could disappear into a snowdrift. He was hunched over a high-powered scope, his body perfectly still. Valen approached, the crate left by the entrance.
